Even a high awakening ripens one step at a time.

When climbing a high mountain, we cannot run up all at once. As the altitude rises, the breath changes, and the body has to adapt to the new height. If the knees or back are weak, they need care first. We train the body from lower ground and rest at each stage. If we take the mountain lightly and hurry upward, the body grows tired before the path is truly walked.

Practice is similar. In a certain moment, we may clearly see the direction of the mind. Yet seeing it once does not mean that old habits and wavering disappear all at once. Because we have seen it, we have to walk even more carefully. Now that we know where to go, we need time to learn that path with body and mind.

The teaching called sudden awakening and gradual cultivation shows this order of practice. Even if we suddenly see the direction of awakening, there is a gradual process of polishing it so it does not shake in everyday life. Just as a person who knows where the summit is does not climb carelessly, a practitioner should not remain in the thought, “I have seen the mind,” but should confirm it in life one step at a time.

A high mountain makes us humble. When we think of Mount Sumeru or a sacred mountain, we know that wanting to climb is not enough. Preparation, order, breathing, and rest are needed. Practice is the same. When the mind shakes, we steady the breath again. When desire runs ahead, we slow one step. What we know has to be practiced and ripened in life.

Even a mountain we cannot physically climb can become a path of mind practice. Even if the body cannot go there, we can learn that when the mind shakes, the world shakes, and when the mind is still, it does not move, like a mountain. In the end, what matters is not talk about the summit, but with what kind of mind I take today’s one step.